


Working

by LondonGypsy



Series: 'I Do' [4]
Category: Benedict Cumberbatch Fandom, British Actor RPF
Genre: Developing Relationship, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Secret Relationship, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-23
Updated: 2014-11-23
Packaged: 2018-02-26 19:28:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2663618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LondonGypsy/pseuds/LondonGypsy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A hot summer day, a photoshoot, too tight clothes and a worked up PA/boyfriend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Working

Benedict's entirely still, breathing deeply and Alex has to check twice to make sure he's actually awake. 

"5 minutes," he murmurs as he passes him, phone in one hand, Benedict's water bottle in the other. 

He only gets a soft hum in response. He's not entirely sure Benedict even heard him. 

A little irritated he casts a quick glance at him, then shrugs. 

Benedict's done this a million times already while Alex is still new to it, still getting adjusted to be a personal assistant.

Eventually he runs out of things to do and sits down, taking a drink of water. Just as he swallows he realises that he should have probably brought his own bottle. In private they share but they're in public now and he's quite certain it's frowned upon to use one's clients drinks. 

But nobody pays attention to him anyway, so he only makes a mental note for the next time and waits, his gaze instantly drawn to Benedict's lithe figure, splayed out on the small ledge, headphones in his ears, completely removed from the business around him. 

He hasn't seen him like this yet, all quiet and calm, just waiting. Alex couldn't actually believe it as he told him first: that the main part of his job is the waiting: for the set to be rearranged, the camera lenses to be changed, for hair and make-up, wardrobe check and what else had to be done before the actors could actually act. 

He remembers laughing so hard that he almost fell of his chair, unbelieving that Benedict, this bundle of bottled up energy was able to patiently sit around and just wait. 

But he's seeing it with his own eyes now and it's mesmerising. 

There's something statuesque about him, laying on his back, his hands folded over his flat stomach, his naked toes waggling to a rhythm only he can hear.

He's already wearing the outfit put together for him: blue jeans so tight, Alex wonders how he's able to breathe and an equally tight white t-shirt, hugging his toned torso like a second skin. 

He looks absolutely delicious and Alex's fingers itch terribly. He's seen him naked, of course, knows how his skin feels but seeing him like this evokes an urgent need to undress him – slowly - , peel those tight clothes off his body and reveal that sensitive, pale skin Alex just can't get enough of. 

His mouth is dry and following a sudden instinct he pulls out his phone, snapping a few pictures. 

Benedict stirs, his lids flutter open and he turns his head, instantly finding Alex's and raising an eyebrow at him. 

Alex feels his face heating up as Benedict's bright eyes bore into his. 

Slowly Benedict sits up, taking the headphones out and stands, stretching before he strolls over. He bends down to retrieve the water bottle, taking a sip, his eyes never once leaving Alex's who's staring back like a hypnotised rabbit. 

"You know," Benedict murmurs, "I can always sense when someone's taking photos of me. Even when I'm not looking. And especially when it's you." 

Alex blushes some more, cursing himself inwardly. 

"Sorry," he mutters, slipping his phone back in his pocket. 

"Never said it bothers me when you're the one taking them," Benedict says lowly, winking at him. He turns and walks back to where a make-up artist is already waiting for him, leaving Alex gazing after him, jaw open. 

Benedict sits down, turning his face towards the sun and closes his eyes but not before casting another dark look into Alex's direction. 

The corners of his mouth twitch. 

Alex shuts his mouth, slightly baffled and watches the sudden business around the other man, applying make-up, arranging his curls, tugging on his shirt. 

Eventually everyone seems happy and they step back, retreating to the side, leaving him alone in a spot of sunlight.  

"Well then, Benedict, are you ready?" the photographer asks lightly, peaking up from behind his camera where he's been bustling for a while now. 

"As ready as one can be," Benedict replies cheerfully, holding up his phone. 

Alex suddenly remembers his job and hurries over, taking it from him. Their fingers brush and Alex has to force himself to not linger. 

"Thank you," Benedict mutters, his voice a dark caress over Alex's tense nerves. 

Nodding - he doesn't trust his voice - Alex sits back down, settling to watch the shoot. 

The longer he watches, the more he knows that he will not be able to be around for another shoot.

Benedict's behaviour is driving his blood pressure into unknown highs, his heart is hammering so loudly he's afraid everyone can hear it and he's desperately trying to hide his growing erection. 

Benedict's flirting with the camera like nothing Alex has ever seen. He's seductive when the photographer asks him to be, pulls faces the next second and gets all dark and broody for the next take. 

It's the most fascinating thing Alex has ever witnessed - the man's a chameleon and despite the tightness in Alex's jeans, he can't take his eyes off of him, drinking in every single move, every blink of his mesmerising eyes, every liquid motion of his sinuous limbs. 

Alex realises he's panting and leaning back, he wills his breathing to calm down. 

Every now and then the photographer stops and people appear, handing Benedict new clothes and he has absolutely no problem with changing into them right there.

Alex knows there's a changing area somewhere behind him but Benedict doesn't bother with it, dropping trousers and shirts like he's at home and not surrounded by a dozen people. 

The early morning light shifts into the blazing heat of an unusual hot summer day and eventually the photographer stops. Taking one last picture he waves Benedict off, who instantly slumps into himself. 

Pulling his shirt over the bulge in his jeans Alex stands on wobbly knees and walks over, handing Benedict his water bottle who accepts it eagerly. 

This close, Alex can see the fine sheen of sweat on his forehead and his neck, can hear his ragged breath. His hands curl in to fists to keep them from pushing into his combed back hair and lick the sweat off his skin. 

He must've made some kind of noise because Benedict looks at him puzzled. Only for a second though, then his eyes widen and he groans almost tonelessly. His long fingers close tightly around the bottle in his hand, his nostrils flare and Alex can see how the vein at his neck starts pulsing. 

"We're done, yes?" Benedict calls over Alex's shoulder towards the photographer. 

"Yes. It's getting too hot now, won't make much sense to keep shooting," is the answer. 

"Then you will excuse me. I need a cold shower," Benedict says lightly and only Alex can hear the roughness in his voice. 

"Sure thing, we'll get in touch as soon as we've picked-" 

Benedict isn't even listening anymore. He's grabbing his bag and shoots a searing look at Alex before he strolls towards the exit. 

Alex hurries after him, already calculating how to get home fastest and with the least amount of trouble. 

Not paying attention to where he goes - he just follows Benedict's incredibly long legs - he suddenly finds himself in a dimly lit room. 

Confused he looks up as he hears the loud click of a locking door. 

Benedict leans against it, his bag discarded next to him, his eyes narrowed and dark on Alex. 

"I got to say," he growls roughly, "having you around is quite distracting." 

Alex is rooted to the spot, eyes glued to the other man, his stomach flipping as Benedict slides a hand over his own torso, playing with the hem of his shirt. 

"Is it?" Alex croaks. 

Benedict nods slowly. 

"Oh yes. I'm used to being watched especially when doing this," he waves a hand around, "but you, my dear Alex, are making things very very-" 

He drops his hand towards his groin, covering the growing bulge in those tight trousers and Alex gasps. 

"-hard," Benedict ends, pressing his palm firmly against himself; Alex can see the tendons on his small wrists stand out perfectly. 

"Are you're going to do anything about it?" Benedict asks slyly, his hand moving in slow circles over his jeans, "or do I have to take care of it myself?" 

Alex is in shock, he's never seen him like this but it's doing all kinds of things to his libido. 

He swallows a few times before he's able to say anything. 

"Did... did you have anything particular in mind?" he asks, licking his lips as Benedict slowly pulls the shirt over his head, dropping it carelessly on the floor. 

The hungry smile flickering over his face causes Alex's heart to stop for a second before it hammers away. 

"I have," he growls, his slender fingers sliding down his stomach and popping the button on his jeans, "but we don't really have time for that. When we're home though-" 

He wants to say more but Alex rushes over and pushes him hard against the door. His shaking hands bury into his hair, pulling his head back and he licks a long stripe up Benedict's neck. 

Both men moan loudly. 

"When we're home," Alex groans, biting at Benedict's salty skin, "I'm going to, going-" 

Words fail him and instead he pulls Benedict's head down, sealing his lips over his, kissing him frantically. 

The sound Benedict makes, a low groan coming from deep down his chest, drives Alex insane and he forgets himself. 

Letting go of his hair, his hands fall down and he fumbles hectically with the zip of Benedict's jeans who does the same to Alex's trousers. 

They're both panting heavily, and don't take the time to push down the offending fabric: they just plunge their hands on each other's pants. Alex muffles a cry against Benedict's shoulder as his large hand closes around his achingly hard cock. 

And then Benedict just freezes, not moving a muscle. He leans back against the wood even though his chest is covered in sweat and he's gasping for air. 

Alex looks up, and as he meets Benedict's burning eyes, twinkling devilish, he doesn't think as he leans in and sinks his teeth into the soft flesh of his neck. 

"Stop fucking teasing," he grunts, closing his hand harder around Benedict's erection, eliciting a low groan from the other man. 

"You've teased me more than I can take today," Alex mutters as he starts stroking - slowly, drawing out every motion. 

"I'm not the one teasing," is Benedict’s rough reply but he starts moving his hand as well, matching Alex's long strokes. 

"Aren't you?" Alex grits out between his teeth, trembling, "parading around in those tight clothes, driving me all insane? What do you call it then?" 

"Working," is Benedict's moaned reply. 

"Ha," Alex gasps, "you call that _working_?" 

He yelps as Benedict's hand suddenly lets go of him, spinning him around and pressing against his back, his cock slotting perfectly between his arsecheeks. 

"Yes," he breathes hotly against his ear, slipping his hand back in Alex's pants, his other arm pressing him tightly against him.

"More like, _hng_ , driving, _oh god_ , everyone around you, _Christ_ , mad with desire," Alex stutters as Benedict's motions speed up, reducing him to a quivering mess in his arms. 

Benedict's rutting against his back but as Alex tries to reach around, Benedict only growls "no" against his temple. 

Increasing his strokes, Alex's head falls back, rests on Benedict's shoulder and he's giving himself over. The only thing he's able to do for the other man is roll his hips, thrusting into his hand and pushing against the hot hardness between his arse, rubbing firmly against his skin. 

"Too bad we don't have lube," Benedict rumbles, "I'd take you so hard, right here and you'd have to..." 

Alex clenches his muscles, creating perfect friction for Benedict's rutting cock and then he feels him tense, his hand squeezing his own cock hard as he comes on his lower back. Moaning helplessly Alex thrusts into Benedict's taut grip but it's not enough. He closes his own shaking hand around Benedict's on his cock and it doesn't take long until he spills his release with a suppressed growl all over their joined hands. 

His limbs instantly relax against the heated body behind him and only the solid door keeps them both from tumbling to the floor. Alex leans against Benedict, both trying to catch their breath and then Alex takes a weak step forward, whining as the warmth on his back is gone. 

"That," Benedict says huskily, chasing a shiver down Alex's spine, "was the hottest thing I've ever done." 

Alex chuckles giddily, looking around for something to clean himself up. 

"It was," he agrees, spying some tissues on a table nearby. Stalking over he cleans himself up as good as possible and then tosses the box over to Benedict, who's still slumped against the door. 

Alex groans at the sight: his naked upper body is glistening with sweat, his open trousers hanging around his hips, his hair a complete mess. 

Benedict looks up and his eyes narrow knowingly. He makes a little show of cleaning himself up, never once looking away as he pulls his jeans back up, closing it slowly. 

Despite feeling spent and ready for a nice long nap, Alex feels his cock twitching again. 

"Jesus, can you just stop?" he whines. 

"Stop what?" 

"Being fucking sexy as hell even with your come all over you," Alex says accusingly, "just stop it." 

Benedict grins, wiping on his stomach and tosses the tissue in a bin. 

"Not my fault that you're so easily aroused," he says lowly. 

"Well, basically everything you do arouses me," Alex admits, picking up Benedict's shirt from the floor and holding it out to him. 

"Ditto," is the mumbled reply. 

Alex laughs softly and steps closer, smoothing the fabric of the shirt over Benedict's chest. 

"Guess we're good then." 

"I guess, yes." 

"Come here you," Alex murmurs and pulls Benedict into a gentle kiss, smiling as the man whimpers quietly. 

"Let's get out of here." 

Benedict nods, picking up his bag and runs a hand through his disheveled hair. 

"Good to go?" 

Alex lets his eyes roam over him: he looks utterly shagged but that can't be helped. 

"Let's hope nobody sees us," he grins, winking at him, "there’s no way anyone can miss what you were up to." 

Grumbling Benedict runs both hand through his hair again in the attempt to smooth it down. 

"That's not helping, you know," Alex says, "you're fucking glowing." 

"Well, I can't stop that, can I?" 

Alex smiles, a happy flutter in his stomach. 

"No you can't. And I love seeing you like this." 

Benedict glares at him but his eyes twinkle and his mouth twitches. 

"Come on, time to go home."  

 


End file.
